


Treat me beneath this clear night sky

by thecrackshiplollipop



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecrackshiplollipop/pseuds/thecrackshiplollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn finds comfort and support where she least expects it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treat me beneath this clear night sky

It’s mid-October and football season is in full swing. McKinley’s latest game ran into overtime because they were tied at four points, but then the Fort Shawnee Tomahawks scored one touchdown and it was all over. Brittanyshould be going with Santana to Puck’s after-game party at Schoonover Park but home is closer and she really doesn’t feel like drinking watered down beer while Santana sucks face with Puckerman.

Plus, it’s cold outside and the sky is so clear she can see a bunch of stars hanging overhead, so she hides under the bleachers until the field has cleared and the entire area goes silent. They never get pretty nights like this, before the snow comes and the ground is too cold and wet to lay on for very long. She spreads out in the middle of the field, right at the 50 yard line where she had sex outside for the first time. (It was with Santana, the summer after freshman year, when they didn’t know what they were doing, they just were. They’d snuck onto the field to watch a meteor shower and listen to some jazz Santana’s dad introduced them to. It had been slow and hot and perfect and Brittany never wanted to forget that moment, even though Santana says she's more into guys than ladykisses.)

Quinn emerges from the locker room in a puffy parka, flushed and sweaty. She spent the twenty minutes post-game throwing up in the locker room when she should have been consoling her boyfriend over his latest loss. Whoever spread the lie about 'morning' sickness should probably be put to trial for being a jerk. All she wants to do is go home and put a cold cloth on her forehead, but she left her duffel under the bench and she’s pretty sure Finn didn’t have enough foresight to pick it up for her.

So she wanders back to the field only to find Brittany sprawled out on the grass in a big coat and wrapped in scarves. She looks so small all alone in the big football field, her breath coming out in clouds that hang in the air for a moment before turning to wisps. But she also looks so content, just being there. Quinn forgoes picking up her duffel and instead walks across the field to where Brittany is. She sits down next to her and looks up, squinting at the bright white pinpricks of star in the blue-black sky. The ground is cold, even through her official Cheerios sweatpants, but Brittany isn’t even wearing those and she seems unmoved.

“Shouldn’t you be going to that party? With Santana?”

“She's with Puck.”

“Oh.” Quinn blinks and turns her head to look down at Brittany. “and you’re…?”

“Trying to pick out the constellations.”

“Oh. Alright. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I should g-” She moves to stand up, shifting her weight carefully because lately the whole ‘standing up quickly’ thing has led to mouthwatering nausea and Quinn is intimately familiar with where that eventually leads.

“No,” Brittany turns her head finally, looking away from the stars and up at Quinn. “You should stay and help me.” Quinn hesitates and looks over at her duffel bag. Which isn’t alone, it’s right next to the one with unicorn patches sewn into the side, the one that Brittany has been carrying around since their first day of practice. “C’mon, it’s Friday night, and you never stay out on Fridays anymore. You’re not just the youngest Cheerios captain, you’re also turning out to be the lamest.”

“Huh,” Quinn frowns but then Brittany smiles brightly as if to say ‘just kidding’ and Quinn rolls her eyes, unable to keep herself from smiling back. “Okay well…”

“Lie down, first.”

Quinn complies wordlessly, lying down a few inches away from Brittany. She screws up her face and stares at the sky. It’s so clear she can see a lot of stars, most of them constellations she never learned, but a few she remembers her dad pointing out on the camping trips they used to go on. “That’s the Big Dipper.” She points, tracing the stars in the sky.

“No. It’s better if you make them up. Like, that’s the sippy cup, instead.” Brittany scoots closer so their arms are pressed together. She grabs Quinn’s hand with her gloved one and twines their fingers together, pressing the fleece of her gloves against Quinn’s cold skin. Quinn can feel the warmth of Brittany through their coats and the air is still except for the sound of their breathing and cars passing the front of the school. “That one’s the baby bottle.”

“Brittany…” Quinn can’t look at her, she can’t do anything but flex her fingers against Brittany’s and wait for the feeling like she’s going to suffocate to pass.

“You try.”

“I don’t think-”

“I think that one’s probably the dirty diaper.” She says it so seriously that Quinn can’t stop herself from laughing. And then she’s laughing hard, not at the weird U shaped line of stars in the sky that looks like a full diaper, but at herself. At herself and at the cold hard football field under her back; at the positive pregnancy test and the fact that the top of her Cheerios uniform keeps getting tighter; at how so much smarter Brittany is than anyone gives her credit for and how tightly Brittany is holding her hand, like she’s anchoring her there in that moment.

Brittany, in what seems like an endless capacity for kindness towards Quinn, lets her laugh, and strokes the underside of Quinn’s wrist with small, soothing movements. It takes Quinn a few minutes to regain her composure, but then she looks up at the sky with watery eyes and points.

“I see… um… the peace sign?”

“Oh yeah, that one!”

Quinn grins and scans the stars again, finding a spray that looks like a piece of broccoli and another that looks like an egg. Brittany squeezes her hand and looks over, studying Quinn’s profile while she watches the stars for something else.

“You’ll make a good mom. If you want to.”

Quinn turns her head cautiously, breathing slowly through her nose, not sure if the wave of nausea rolling over her is from the baby or from fear. “Britt…”

“I’m not going to tell anybody. I just. I thought you should have someone on your side, until you decide to tell everyone.”

Quinn stares at Brittany, her brows furrowed so tightly she’s pretty sure a wrinkle has formed there already, but Brittany just stares back with that soft expression and those clear blue eyes. “Thanks, I think.”

Brittany just shrugs and looks back up at the stars. “I think I see a spaceship.”

“Like, a real spaceship?”

“No, you’d have to have like, supervision to see a spaceship from here. I just have normal vision. Except my dad says I need glasses but I’ve been working on him to get me laser surgery.”

“LASIK?”

“Yeah, that surgery where they give you laser eyes so I can be the Bionic woman.”

“Oh. Right.” Quinn tilts her head a little towards Brittany and points up with her free hand as a red blip appears in the middle of their Sippy Cup constellation. “That’s a satellite.”

“No, that’s a spaceship  _leaving_  our atmosphere.”

“I thought you said-“

“Well you can see them when they leave, duh. It’s probably the same aliens that took my hamster when I was in sixth grade.”

“Oh.”

“He was a Leninist at heart, so I’m pretty sure he’s instituted a Communist dictatorship over the aliens. I’ve accepted that he’s gone.”

Quinn just blinks and drops her hand, touching the part of her stomach that rises  for the first time without thinking about it. She scrunches her features and chews on her bottom lip, “I see a smiley face… It’s kind of… lumpy, and the smile is crooked but-”

“I see it. It’s perfect.” Quinn turns her head again, just in time to catch Brittany smile and laugh, “its smile _is_ pretty crooked, though.”

Quinn thinks that, maybe, if everyone was like Brittany, she wouldn’t feel like drowning every time she steps into school. Brittany is like a fresh breath of cold October air, and the cold ground under Quinn’s back isn’t so hard and unforgiving. She feels the softness of Brittany’s fleece gloves, and the cold material of her parka, right over the small rise between her hips, and hopes that every time she tells someone new, it’ll be just as easy as making up constellations and holding hands.

**Author's Note:**

> The image in the above story is my own edit of the original images put on the web.


End file.
